Five Times Steph Thought Fate Was Crazy and One Time She KNEW It Was
by jdho2
Summary: Over the course of a couple of crazy days, Steph has cause to question fate's sanity. Just when she thinks it's all over, she gets hit with one more, even bigger, surprise. Soulmate AU! Rated T: for language (following the logic that you get one F-bomb per PG-13 movie...)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a quickly written, completely un-betaed story. If you find typos or issues, please feel free to (kindly?) let me know in your reviews or via private message. Please do not harass my usual beta about them! She gets a pass on this one!

Now, we're going with soulmates again on this story, so if you don't know the drill, here's a brief explanation. When your soulmate is born, their first words to you appear on their skin- almost like a tattoo. Romantic soulmates are in black "ink", while platonic are grey. It is possible to have one, none, or multiple in either category. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances, and the words might appear at a time other than birth, or words might disappear.

Where Asgardians are concerned, soulmates are a little different. When you see your platonic for the first time, you're physically pulled together by fate into an arm clasp that is broken after introducing yourselves. When Asgardians see their romantic soulmate for the first time, their pulled into a head-to-toe embrace that can only be broken by a kiss.

 _ **One**_

I really didn't want to be quoting my mother, but all I could think at the moment was, "why me? Why did this stuff always happen to me?"

It had started out simply enough. One of my neighbors, Mr. Kolakowski, had a goddaughter who in turn had a daughter that had gone missing. Now, said daughter, Isabelle, was eighteen and had just graduated from high school, so the police thought she'd just left. And she was an adult so she was allowed to do so if she so chose.

Isabelle's mother, however, did not think Isabelle had just up and left. Among other reasons was the fact that Isabelle had left all her clothes and shoes behind. Another was that she'd also left her graduation gifts (mostly cash) behind as well.

I was inclined to believe the mother, as I knew I wouldn't leave town with at least my favorite… dozen… pairs of shoes. And even an eighteen year old who had never lived away from home would know enough to know she'd need money for things. Like food.

Of course, I'd protested that I was a bounty hunter, and not a PI, and they would be better off with someone more experienced searching for her. Possibly someone who specialized in kidnappings and runaways. And someone who the cops respected a little bit more because even though I'd gotten better at my job, most of the cops in the Trenton Police Department thought I was a joke.

But they'd continued pleading over my protests and logic, and eventually I'd given in. So the case of Isabelle had become my primary side job. Anytime I wasn't going after a Failure to Appear, or FTA, for my cousin Vinnie's bail bonds company, I was trying to find Isabelle.

As teenagers were wont to be, her friends had been fairly secretive when I'd first approached them. Once Isabelle had reached 48 hours of being missing though, they'd decided they needed to trust someone, and apparently I was it. Then it was information dump time.

I'd gotten details on her first adorable kiss in elementary school, the boyfriend she'd lost her virginity to on prom night, and everything in between. Probably Isabelle would be pissed off when she found out how much I knew about her. Though, to be pissed off, she'd have to be alive, so I would take it.

Through the details of all the stories I was given, I was able to get a fairly clear picture of Isabelle. And like a lot of teenagers, she wasn't quite the paragon of virtue her mother had insisted she was. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't a bad kid, but she also wasn't perfect.

A bit more pressing had given me the name and location of an underground club that Isabelle liked to go to because they didn't card her or her friends. I'd waited until late Friday night, and then I'd gone to investigate.

That was where things had gone badly. Instead of just staking the place out, I'd decided to go in. And as soon as my thirty-something self had walked into the place, there'd been a record-scratch sound and the music had cut out.

Not actually, but close enough. I was easily the oldest person there, and everyone else knew it too. I'd tried to brush it off, and go about my business, ask my questions, the usual. Of course, no one would talk to me, and the second I stepped outside, I was greeted by a sweet-smelling cloth pressed over my mouth.

That was how I found myself in the trunk of a car with my arms tied behind my back. I knew it was the trunk of a car that I was in because I'd been crammed in a variety of things before, including cars, and this one just smelled and felt like a car trunk. Lovely. At least we weren't moving.

I sat there for a few more minutes, waiting to see if the car was going to start up and we'd be on the road again. I was also waiting to see if they were going to come and get me out. Deciding that it seemed as though no one was in a rush to deal with me, I started wiggling around. From what I could tell, the bindings on my hands were actual rope, and a bit of contortion later, I found a rough patch that I could rub the rope against to fray it.

In the movies when someone did that, it didn't take more than a couple seconds. I was willing to concede the point that it probably depended on the type of rope and what you were using to cut it, but really I thought it was mostly Hollywood nonsense. Still, I kept working on it, fearful that any moment I was going to be interrupted by my captors.

Eventually I got the ropes loose and was able to slip my hands free and start feeling around the trunk. When I discovered that my captors hadn't been so thorough as to remove the mechanism for freeing yourself from the trunk if you got trapped inside. Of course, as soon as I released it, it was entirely possible that Hell would break loose.

The alternative really wasn't any better, so I took a deep breath and moved. Throwing the trunk open, I jumped out, hit the ground flat on my belly, and rolled under the car. I peeked out from my hiding spot and hardly suppressed a scream when I saw the dead bodies that were littering the ground on either side.

Seconds later a new set of boots materialized next to the car, and a gruff voice said, "oh, thank goodness you're not completely useless. Come on, get out from under there, I need your help."

Surprised to hear the words written around one of my ankles in grey, almost illegible handwriting, I forgot where I was and tried to sit up, banging my head, hard on the underside of the car. Muttering to myself, I rolled back out from under the car and I wasn't prepared at all for what was in front of me.

"Is that a bow?" I asked.

I had a feeling that the guy could, when he wanted to, have a blank face that would put Ranger's to shame, but at the moment he chose not to use it. Instead he grinned and said, "this you?" and showed me writing on the outside of one bulging bicep.

I nodded just barely managed to nod my head and then I pulled up my pant leg, allowing him to see the writing there. In response, the man looked at my leg and said, "well, I'm glad I have a platonic who at least knows what my weapon of choice is. And you can get yourself out of the trunk of a car."

"It wasn't that difficult once I got loose of the rope, they didn't remove the latch thingy." I looked at the dead bodies and noticed the arrows sticking out of them and said, "I guess you aren't on their side?"

"Hell no. I do not endorse human trafficking. Now what do you say we go free a bunch of missing kids, then we can talk about how you ended up in the trunk of that car as you're not exactly their target demographic."

I let out a sigh and said, "Any chance you've already killed them all and I only have to undo a few locks? I forgot my gun today and they took my purse with my stun gun in it."

With a smile, the man leaned down to one of the dead bodies and pulled a gun off of the belt the guy had been wearing. After rifling through the pockets, he came up with two spare clips and handed all three objects to me. While I stashed the extra clips on my person, he yanked his arrows out of the bodies and put them onto the quiver on his back with ruthless efficiency.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he said before taking off quickly toward the train yard in the distance and leaving me no choice but to follow and hope I was able to keep my platonic soulmate from getting dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

My platonic soulmate hadn't gotten dead, but he hadn't actually stuck around long enough for us to go out and get our drinks. In fact, he'd disappeared as soon as the sirens got within earshot, taking all his arrows with him and leaving me leading a bunch of scared kids out into the parking lot alone when what seemed like all of TPD pulled up.

Of course, even without his name, I had a pretty good idea of who he was. How many people were there in the world who had a history of being in the Tri-state area while completing heroic acts using a bow and arrows? Only one person I could think of. So, I'd had to carefully edit my story on re-telling.

Honestly, I was pretty sure everyone knew that _something_ was up because I obviously hadn't killed that many bad guys alone, some of them had entry and exit wounds with no bullets in sight, and nobody believed that they were "already like that" when I arrived.

Still, two dozen teens had been saved from trafficking, and people were willing to overlook some inexplicable dead bodies in the process. And because there had been reporters who showed up right at the same time as the cops, my photo had been plastered everywhere, again, along with dumb headlines like, "Trenton's Own Bombshell Bounty Hunter Ups Her Game".

By the time I'd answered the same questions what felt like hundreds of times and got home, I was exhausted. Not so exhausted that I didn't notice the arrow embedded in my wall across from the window I'd left open. Through it was a note that said, "lock your damn doors AND windows." The "AND" was underlined three times.

I figured it was nice that he worried about me, so I went and locked the window, but decided to leave the arrow in the wall because I was too tired to do anything else.

When I woke up the next morning, the note and arrow were gone. On the table was a new note that said, "Thanks, but get better locks, I know you know a guy." I would have been annoyed if the note hadn't been under a cup of coffee and on top of another note that said, "IOU 1 beer."

Below that Hallmark-worthy sentiment was a phone number that I instinctively knew I should only call in the case of an emergency, so I set it aside.

For once it seemed that my mother was not embarrassed by everyone talking about me. Don't get me wrong, she still thought I needed a normal job, but having a daughter who'd saved a bunch of teenagers was apparently good for her social standing inside the area of Trenton I'd grown up in called the Burg. Of course, that meant that I was once again subject to endless lectures on how I needed to set a good example for the community.

I spent the better part of the week dodging calls from reporters. Alright, you got me, I was also avoiding the calls from my mom. After she'd finally accepted that I wasn't going to be taking any interviews, she'd changed goals. Now she wanted me to use the buzz to my advantage to nab a husband before I invariably screwed up and that got plastered all over the news again, ensuring that no one wanted to marry me. Her words, not mine.

Tripping over reporters every time you stepped outside wasn't good for bounty hunting, so I'd had to take a few days off. I still checked in at the office every day, and did preliminary research, but I couldn't actually take down any FTAs until I had some room to maneuver. By the time I was free to do so again, I was itching to get back to it.

The first couple of FTAs went down easily enough. I was able to find them with limited additional surveillance time, and I was able to catch, cuff, and bring them in without incident. Lucky number three, however, was an entirely different story. Allison Henderson had seemed like your run of the mill housewife. She had a set routine that she went about, with errands she ran while her kids were in school.

This routine included a trip to the Farmer's Market every Thursday to stock up on produce. As it just so happened to be Thursday, I figured that was my golden opportunity, and I went to the market and waited her out. I took my time wandering amongst the produce, trying to act as though I was one of those people who could tell which of the tomatoes was good by touching all of them while devising my plan.

In hindsight, I should have strategized a few minutes longer, and maybe I would have realized that one of my remaining sets of platonic soulmark words so clearly applied to the situation and devised a new plan instead.

But unfortunately I didn't have that epiphany, and instead went with the original plan, waiting until her hands were full of the aforementioned tomatoes to approach.

"Allison Henderson, my name is Stephanie, and I work for Plum Bail Bonds. You missed your court date, and I need to take you in-"

Before I could even get to the part about rescheduling it hit me. And by it, I mean the first tomato. Splat. I looked down at my chest and saw a ridiculous red splotch where the tomato had landed before sliding down and resting on my shoe.

"Look, you just need to reschedule," I tried.

Splat. Another tomato, this time hitting me on the face, hard enough, I was certain, to ensure I ended up with a black eye. Reflexively, I backed up as my hand flew up to my face, and when the next tomato hit me, it knocked me off balance and into the table behind me that the local vineyard had set up for wine tasting.

Predictably, Allison took advantage of the moment to run, and I murmured apologies even as I started running after her. "Stop! Bond Enforcement!" I yelled.

I got close enough when we reached the front doors that I leapt, going for and landing the flying tackle. With a good deal of frustration, I was ranting to my FTA and handcuffing her when a pair of brown, feminine boots came into view next to me. Glancing up, I caught sight of a gorgeous redhead who, even if I didn't have a pretty good idea who she was, you could just tell was deadly. It was in the way she carried herself.

Rats.

"Any chance you just got here and didn't see all that?" I asked, resigned to the fate of knowing I'd just embarrassed myself in front of an Avenger.

Her lips quirked in amusement and responded, "why did you wait for her to arm herself with something so easy to throw?"

I spared a moment to pull my tank top strap to the side in the back and give her a clear view of the words written on my shoulder before I responded. "Because," I paused to not at all gently pull the woman in question to her feet by the restraints, "I thought she had just forgotten her court date, and I assumed she realized she wasn't going to do hard time or anything and would come quietly."

"Do you have any idea how this is going to look?" Allison sputtered out. "I'm PTA president! I can't go to jail! Everyone will talk!"

My new platonic soulmate let out a sound of disgust at that, which she repeated when she heard me say, "then I guess you should have thought of that before you tried to shoplift those crayons"

As we approached the parking lot, Widow turned to me and said, "you smell like a bar, why don't you let me drive, Steph?"

Apparently she knew my name, so I responded with, "I would, but my mom told me not to get in cars with strangers."

I could see more amusement in her eyes as she said, "name's Natasha." Then she wiggled my car keys in front of my face and opened the back door for me to stow Allison in.

Once I'd climbed into the front seat and Natasha started driving I asked, "what are you even doing here?"

"Clint was bragging about how he met you first. The handwriting matches, so I decided to introduce myself. Plus, if you hadn't said my words, that would have meant you were trying to pull a fast one on Clint for some reason."

"Ha! No way I have the guts to try that."

"I don't know, Clint says you saved his life."

"Once. I'm pretty sure he saved mine at least five times more."

"Soulmates don't keep score."

So far, I'd found two of my platonic soulmates and both were Avengers. I was pretty sure that it was a good thing they didn't keep score because fate must have had quite the sense of humor sticking those two with me. The score would never be close to even.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Three**_

Platonic Soulmate Number Two, aka Natasha, didn't just disappear after I met her the way my first had, and it was refreshing. Instead, she'd waited outside while I took Allison in for rebooking. Apparently she got bored easily because when I walked out a handful of minutes later, a black Corvette pulled up right in front of me. The window rolled down to reveal Natasha and when I looked around the lot, I didn't see my car anywhere in sight.

Deciding to just go with it, I slid into the passenger seat and looked over at her, "nice wheels."

She responded with a husky laugh that I wished I could pull off. By that point, I'd decided that not much was going to throw me for a loop about having two super spy Avengers as platonic soulmates, and since she and Hawkeye had spoken about me, that was definitely true of the fact that she pulled into my apartment parking lot a few minutes later.

When we reached the door, a gun materialized in her hand, and she pushed me out of the way as soon as I'd opened up. Several seconds later, she returned, gun nowhere to be seen, and pulled me into the apartment. She unceremoniously shoved me into my bathroom then went back out to the living room.

I figured the odds were fifty-fifty, but I was pleased when I stepped out to find that Natasha was still there. Somehow, she'd changed her clothes, and I was going to assume she'd had a bag in the car. Taking my cue from her attire, I dressed up into clothes that I would wear out to a club and went back into the bathroom to put on makeup and change up my hair a little. Returning back to the living room, I was pleased to see Natasha looking right at home as she sipped water out of one of my least broken glasses.

"Sorry," I said gesturing around the apartment, "it's not much."

Natasha shrugged and said, "I've lived in worse."

Shortly thereafter I found myself in the Corvette again driving to a local bar that was heavy on the dark lighting but relatively safe. Raising my eyebrows at Natasha in question, I waited for her to explain, "Clint's still busy with the last mission- you only stumbled into the middle of it. But he owes you a beer, and the team is grateful to you for maintaining his cover without us having to ask or get involved, so I thought I'd take you out for a drink. I think we can do better than just a beer though."

No sooner had we settled into a back booth that allowed Natasha to sit with her back to the wall and the entire rest of the place within view then she stood back up and walked to the bar. I casually took my phone out of my purse to check the time, grateful to see that it was basically five o'clock at least.

When she came back to the table, Natasha had a bucket of ice with a full, chilled bottle of vodka in it and two small tumblers. I felt myself gulp as I thought about how much of a lightweight I was. Taking in the sight of my phone, Natasha sat back in her spot then leaned over and swiped it out from in front of me. She pulled another phone out of her jacket and set the two next to each other on the table. I could see some kind of progress bar on each screen, and when it reached the completed stage, Natasha took my phone and stuck it back in her pocket then handed me the new one.

"This is secure and it has Clint's and my phone numbers in it. As well as some others that I suspect you can figure out who they all are. If you can't reach Clint or I and you're in trouble, call one of them, they'll help."

"Wow, thanks," I responded. Then I gestured to the vodka sitting between us. "I feel like I should make sure you understand that I cannot be categorized as anything other than a lightweight."

"Sounds like fun," Natasha laughed. "I'm Russian, or I was. Either way, vodka is like water to me. I don't suggest you try to keep up."

Thankfully Natasha had ordered food when she got the bottle, and she truly didn't seem to be set on getting me absolutely wasted. By the time I finished my first drink and was starting my second, she was on her fourth but showed no signs of being affected in any way.

We were chatting casually, not talking about anything too serious when her phone alerted. With a frown, she studied it, then shot me an apologetic smile. "Call Ranger, and tell him where you are and that you'll need a ride home sometime tonight. I have another friend coming to meet you, and she should be here very soon. Try not to take over the world with her until I get back- I don't want to miss out on the fun."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond, I thought about asking how she knew Ranger or telling her I'd just take a cab. In the end it didn't matter because she'd already disappeared. I sat there awkwardly after I texted Ranger, not actively drinking because I was alone and I'd always felt strange about that.

Of course, Morelli popped up and things started to go a little downhill. It began with, "drinking alone, Cupcake?" And devolved from there.

About five minutes into an ugly argument about whose fault it was that we didn't work out, a cheerful voice said from behind me, "Hey, hey! What's this I see? I thought this was a party! Let's DANCE!"

I felt a tug on my arm, and I was pulled over to an open space by a woman just a few inches shorter than me. "Come on, say it!" she said.

I laughed, unsure of what I was supposed to say, but going with, "No one really dances here."

Apparently that was the right thing because the woman laughed and clapped her hands before pulling me into a hug.

"Darcy Lewis," she said holding out her hand.

I was amused by the gesture of a handshake after a hug, but I accepted anyway as I said, "Stephanie Plum, just Steph is fine."

Darcy looked over her shoulder to make sure Morelli had disappeared then dragged me back to the table.

"So, tell me about the jackass," she said after we'd both sipped our way through another pour of vodka- hers a double to allow her to catch up.

"Not much to tell," I said. "I don't have a romantic soulmate and neither did he. We dated for a while, and then he had soulmark words appear in black. For some reason he thought I should stay with him."

"Not everyone is with their soulmate," she argued.

"Oh, you misunderstand. It wasn't an 'I don't care what fate says, I love you, stay with me!' thing. It was, 'well, you're alright and if my soulmate was just born, I'll be too old to have kids by the time she's legal, so I want to use you to have the family I want. Then I'll meet her, ditch you, and we'll take the kids because you're a disaster.' And he didn't even say it that nicely."

"Asshole," she muttered. When I bobbed my head, she said, "speaking of soulmarks though, I forgot to show you mine!"

I didn't realize she'd had too much to drink until that moment. Either that or she was just an extremely uninhibited woman, but my words were on the middle of her back and instead of just turning around and lifting the bottom of her shirt until I could see it, she whipped off her entire shirt and turned her back to me.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Four**_

Now, Darcy was seriously busty, so as soon as she turned her front to the room at large, we had a little bit of a problem.

The first came when I, in my drunk state, decided that what she'd done was the perfectly normal way to go about showing someone your soulmark. Which meant I repeated the process by whipping off my shirt and letting her see the words written in grey on my back.

Obviously, I wasn't stacked, but the fact remained that we were two topless (but not braless) women sitting in a bar, grinning like mad women at each other. It didn't take too long after she read her words in my skin and dopily said, "I love _Footloose_ , don't you?" for the first drunk to come staggering to our table.

After that, more problems piled on in rapid succession. The drunk guy, or Drunk Guy Number One as I referred to him in my head, tried to fondle Darcy, and I punched him. I don't know who was more surprised, the Drunk Guy Number One or me.

He, in reaction, stumbled backward into another group, spilling the drinks on their table all over one huge man. That man got up and started posturing, threatening Drunk Guy Number One, whose friend took offense at me making his friend look bad.

Darcy was laughing loudly, drawing more attention to our predicament. I grabbed my shirt as Drunk Guy Number One's friend, let's call him Drunk Guy Number Two, advanced at me calling me all kinds of filthy things. To be honest, I was willing to let that go if I could just get my shirt back on and get out of there.

While Drunk Guy Number Two advanced on me, Drunk Guy Number One's tussle became more heated, and he got shoved into Drunk Guy Number Two, who, in turn, went stumbling into me. I really think it was completely by accident that, as he tried to regain his footing, Drunk Guy Number Two put his hands up to catch himself and ended up with one on each of my boobs.

Of course, once he found himself in that position, the squeezing and fondling couldn't have been considered an accident the way the initial contact was.

"Hey, Mr. Grabby Hands," Darcy yelled. "Don't touch my new platonic soulmate! I'm not afraid of Gods of Thunder, dark elves, or asshole HYDRA exes, so you can bet your ass I'm not afraid of you!"

She whipped a taser out of her purse when Drunk Guy Number Two didn't respond, choosing instead to continue staring at my breasts that were in his hands. Once Darcy fired it turned into a free for all.

I quickly pulled my shirt on over my head and reached over to take Darcy's taser barbs off Drunk Guy Number Two and shove the whole deal back into Darcy's purse. At the same time, I was coaxing Darcy into putting her shirt back on.

"Come on, we need to get out of here," I hissed.

"We can take 'em!" Darcy insisted.

I was relieved to see a couple of Ranger's employees wading into the fray, so I thought there was a distinct possibility that was true. Our backup was still a ways away from us, though, so I didn't want to risk it.

"You know what, it's true. But that would humiliate them, so let's leave them with a little bit of dignity left," I tried.

Darcy pondered that for just a little too long because Drunk Guy Number One latched onto me, scaring the heck out of me. I screamed and grabbed the vodka bottle, whacking him in the stomach, hard. He toppled over, and I reflexively dropped the bottle, unaware of the glass shattering on the floor.

Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar voice to my right sounding oddly calm saying, "Now that was a waste of perfectly good vodka, Doll."

"Where did YOU come from?!" I shrieked in surprise, noticing that Darcy too was gaping. Her gaze, however seemed to be fixated on the new guy's arm.

Looking down, I noticed it was made of metal, so she kind of had a point, even if it was rude to stare.

"1917," the man replied, still sounding almost bored. "I'll tell you all about it if you help me convince her to get out of here."

He nodded in Darcy's direction and said, "Unless you have a lot more taser refills, I think it would be best to move."

Darcy gasped and replied lamely, "no, I don't; does Steve know you're here?"

The man's eyes lit up and he murmured to himself, "a platonic and a romantic at once and I'm pulling them out of a bar fight. I thought the Punk was bad enough. This must be my penance."

I knew his words on me were grey, which meant that Darcy was his romantic soulmate. That explained the shocked look on her face, but her surprised state made her much easier to hustle outside.

When we finally reached the door, I saw Ranger standing next to an idling Rangeman SUV, and I pulled both my new platonics toward it. The man balked though for a second, and I flashed his words, which were on my hand, to him and said, "they're with me. Please trust me?"

There was a split second where I didn't think he'd listen, but he finally relented, causing Ranger's brows to raise as all three of us climbed into the vehicle. As soon as I shut the door behind myself, Ranger had climbed into the passenger seat and Tank who was behind the wheel laid rubber on our way out.

Ranger turned in his seat and appeared completely unruffled as he asked, "would you care to introduce your guests?"

"Sure!" I said excitedly. "These are two of my platonic soulmates; we just met! This is Darcy, she tased a guy in there. And this is…"

I trailed off because I actually didn't know the guy's name, and Tank just let out a bark of laughter, "James Buchanan Barnes, Howling Commando and best friend of Captain America." He flushed red, and I think it was because he hadn't meant to let on that he was a fan.

"Just call me Bucky," Bucky replied by way of confirmation. Then he looked at his arm almost sadly, "And I've been something other than those things for longer than I ever was them. I don't know if I'm worthy of either title now."

"Of course you are," Darcy retorted, petting the metal arm gently. "That's why he's been looking everywhere for you for the better part of a year."

There was no question who she meant by "he," and I thought it was oddly sweet in a bromance kind of way.

As we'd gotten a few blocks away from the bar, Tank pulled over so we could talk.

"Anything else I need to know?" Ranger asked me pointedly.

"Not that I can think of!" I said, not wanting to reveal Natasha or Clint's identity as neither had expressly given permission.

Ranger stared at me for several beats before nodding his head and asking, "alright, where to now?"


	5. Chapter 5

_**Five**_

I absolutely smelled like vodka, and neither Darcy nor Bucky chimed in with anything useful, so I shrugged and said, "just take us back to my apartment for now. We'll figure things out for ourselves from there."

Wordlessly, Tank pulled back into traffic and drove us to my apartment. Once we were in my parking lot, Ranger turned to look at me over the seat once more. "Am I going to have to put a guard on you for the rest of the night, or are you done causing trouble?" he asked.

Before I could retort, Bucky said, "I'll make sure neither of them gets in to any more trouble tonight."

He opened the door on his side of the SUV, and helped Darcy out who dragged me with her. Stumbling a little, I smiled my thanks when Bucky steadied me with his metal hand.

"I'll be fine!" I called to Ranger, leading the way inside the building.

Before I could even ask, Bucky removed his gloves to let me see my words on his hand once we were inside my apartment. I nodded my head then looked between the couple who were looking at each other a little desperately.

"I'll just clean up," I said. "Give you two some time. Then we'll figure out what we want to do."

Walking into my bedroom, I shut the doors behind me and gathered up some sweats and a shirt to sleep in. After the crazy way things had been going, and knowing that being the platonic soulmate of two Avengers, one of their friends, and a former-but-probably-soon-to-once-again-be-a-friend of their leader was probably a bit dangerous for me, I grabbed my stun gun and decided to keep it with me.

I went to the bathroom, and got into the shower, taking my time to try to give Darcy and Bucky as much time to themselves as possible.

Once I was out, I figured I might as well give them more time, so I settled in to dry my hair. As I did so, I pondered fate, and what kind of cosmic insanity would lead me to have Avenger soulmates. In a way, that was bad ass enough to make up for not having a romantic soulmate.

And, if you thought about it, I'd very possibly have to lie about their identities. That would just cause problems in a relationship, so I was probably better off without anyway.

No matter what, it was probably going to mean I was going to draw even more crazies into my life at a faster rate. Eyeing the taser again, I mentally promised myself to go to the gun range for practice and to begin prioritizing carrying my gun, _loaded_ , from now on.

When my hair was dry and I couldn't put off interrupting Darcy and Bucky any longer, I shut the dryer off and dressed. Opening the door, I found a shadow crossing in front of me, silently creeping. I took in the now open bedroom window and realized Bucky hadn't let this person in, rather they had broken in.

Reacting, I flipped the stun gun to the on position and shoved the prongs into the intruder's neck before pressing the button. The man let out a pained cry and dropped to his knees but didn't get knocked out.

"P-p-p-leeeease stop," he gasped out just as the door to my bedroom splintered open at a single kick from Bucky's booted foot and the light was flipped on.

As soon as I blinked enough for my eyes to adjust to the light, I realized the man at my feet was Captain America.

I hadn't let go of the button even as I gasped out, "oh, FUCK! I'm sooooo sorry!"

Bucky firmly but gently knocked my hands away while laughing hysterically. Darcy had figured out there wasn't a security problem, and wandered in.

I stared at the mark from my stun gun on the back of his neck and barely realized that it was overlaying the words written in my handwriting in grey. Which made sense since I had "please stop" written in efficient handwriting on my right foot. In fact, at that very moment, Captain America's gaze was locked on as he tried to regain his composure.

"How'd you keep the media from seeing that you had the f-word written on your neck for so long, Cap?" Darcy asked through giggles.

With a sigh, he answered while stumbling to his feet. "Nat has this makeup..."

"I'm so so so sorry," I tried.

"No, I'm the one who broke into your apartment. It's understandable," he responded. Eyeing Bucky he continued saying, "I was worried Bucky would run, but that doesn't excuse breaking into a dame's apartment. I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am!"

"Well, this is Darcy Lewis-"

"We know each other," Darcy said. "I'm the one who told Cap where we were. I just thought I made it clear he didn't have to rush to get here."

Sounding frustrated, Captain America said, "Darcy your text said, and I quote, 'Oh Captain, my Captain, I've located your missing crazy Russian assassin. Don't worry, I'm not going to let him get away anytime soon!' You didn't tell me what the situation was or where you were. Nor did you use the code phrases we set up to let me know you were okay!"

"Ooops!" Darcy exclaimed. "I was just so excited to find my platonic soulmate in Steph here and then to discover immediately after that my romantic match is the Winter Soldier! It's like Christmas!"

Bucky snorted in amusement at Darcy's irreverence, and I decided I needed to sit down.

I felt three pairs of eyes settle on me as I sat on the end he of my bed with my head between my knees. A big, warm hand settled on my back, and I looked up to see Captain America looking awkward as he tried to figure out what to say to comfort me.

"She'll be fine," Darcy said. "She's just found out in the last couple days that Hawkeye, Black Widow, Winter Soldier, Captain America and little ol' me are her platonics. That's a lot to take in, especially with all that vodka."

"I can't believe I stun gunned Captain America and am the reason he permanently has the f-word on his body."

"Don't worry about it," Captain America said, "and the name is Steve, if you don't mind. Now is this your apartment?"

"Yes," I said looking around. "I know it's not much, but it is home."

"Well, I have some bad news," he said slowly, "I thought this was just a squatter spot Bucky was using or something, but HYDRA is camped out outside. You're not going to be able to stay here, or probably in Trenton if they know who you are and whose apartment this is."

"Uh..."

Darcy linked her arm through mine and she said, "it's cool, you'll just come hang with us while they do a threat assessment, then we can figure out where to go from there. We have plenty of space." She turned to Steve and asked, "roof?"

At his nod, she started pulling me out of my bedroom and toward the door. "Wait can't I pack-" I argued.

"HYDRA isn't exactly a take your time to evacuate bunch," Steve said as he urged us onward.

When I broke out of Darcy's hold, all three moved to grab me until they saw the cage I was trying to get to. I picked Rex up and whispered to him, "we're going to stay with these nice people for a while."

Steve stepped forward and grabbed the cage from me leaving my hands free to snag my purse and the cookie jar on the way out. To my surprise, we hit the stairwell and went UP. Bucky made short work of the lock at roof level, and as soon as we stepped onto the roof, a jet materialized out of nowhere. Figuring no one else was surprised to see it, I casually stepped on. Darcy followed and we took seats next to each other.

Bucky stood between us and the ramp until it was safely closed while Steve strapped Rex's cage into a small cargo spot. While Bucky helped Darcy into the wacky jet seatbelt, Steve efficiently strapped me into mine.


	6. Chapter 6

_**And One...**_

Once we were in the air, on the jet that didn't seem to have a pilot, Bucky asked a question he's clearly wanted to ask for the past few minutes, "why do you have a cookie jar?"

By way of answering, I reached in and pulled out my gun then my bullets. I carefully loaded the gun then tossed it in my purse, causing Bucky and Steve to both cringe. Though I could tell the wanted to, neither said anything on the matter for the moment. I'd probably get a lecture later.

While we flew, Darcy told me about how she had joined up with the group because she was interning with Thor's ex when "everything went tits up" twice. Jane, the ex, had experienced a bit of a falling out with the Avengers over some differing opinions on proposed superhero legislation and was no longer around.

Though the two had been close, Darcy had elected to stay on with the Avengers and become a general assistant for the team. It seemed that part of her reasoning was when Natasha had hinted that Darcy's best chances of meeting her platonic soulmate being to stay with the team.

I was then treated to a candid rundown of relationships among the team. Clint and Natasha were an item, as were Steve and one of the new team members, Wanda Maximoff, or Scarlet Witch. Steve was platonically matched with Wanda's twin, Pietro, and Darcy had a platonic bond with Sam Wilson, aka Falcon. Though there was no official soulmate level matching involved, Thor considered Darcy to be a sister to him and Steve to be a brother.

As had been the case for all my life, everyone was surprised by the quantity of platonic soulmates I had, as they'd never met anyone else with more than two or three. They were also quick to reassure me that it was nowhere near the strangest thing they'd seen, just notably different.

Although they danced around explicitly saying I was going to have to stay with them forever, I got that impression. For her part, Darcy was eagerly tapping into her phone and making arrangements. While she did so, Steve probed to figure out what my skills were.

When Bucky told Steve about the guy I'd punched out in the bar as well as the one I'd hit with the bottle of vodka, Steve nodded his head in satisfaction.

He seemed particularly interested in the searches and other work I'd done at Rangeman, hinting at the need for more support staff the team could trust. It seemed odd to me how the team just accepted me, and when I mentioned it, Darcy announced that Natasha had already run a check on me when Clint and I met.

It seemed that Darcy's tapping had more purpose behind it than just finding a room for me to stay in when the jet landed and the ramp opened again. There was a small cluster of people waiting on a grassy field for us.

Nervously, I hiked my purse higher up on my shoulder and stood. My gaze moved between the people before me, and I smiled as I saw Steve run up to a brunette with red streaks in her hair and give her a kiss. A man with silver hair rolled his eyes behind them, but the gesture was negated by the reluctant smile that tugged on his lips.

Almost of their own will, my eyes moved hastily over to a man who managed to make Steve look normal in both size and muscular mass. He also stood out because he was wearing what appeared to be some sort of metal armor with a red cape drifting out of the back of it. In his hand was a huge hammer, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was Thor, God of Thunder.

As soon as our gazes locked, I had the strangest sensation take over my body. I was unable no longer in control as I was pulled forward, actually floating off the ground. I thought I heard Darcy whisper something about "Asgard" and soulmates, but I had no idea what she was talking about because I didn't have anymore soulmates.

When I came to a stop, pretty much every inch of the front of my body was plastered against Thor. He let out a wildly happy sounding laugh, and I stuttered out, "I'm really sorry, I don't know what happened. I can't seem to move though. Are you doing this?"

"I am not, the powers of the universe are, My Lady. It seems they have chosen to reward me after all this time with a fierce maiden as my soulmate- it is most joyous news. My heart sings for I had begun to believe I would never be worthy of a mate delivered to me thusly by the fates!"

Shaking just a little, I frantically looked around until I saw Darcy. She was hiding a laughter by burying her face in Bucky's shoulder. "Don't worry, he's gotten much better about speaking in a way that you'll actually be able to understand. He's just very excited right now because you're romantic soulmates."

With wide eyes as I played back the word "mate" in my mind, I stammered, "I'm sorry, Mr. Thor, sir, but I don't have your words on me anywhere, let alone in black."

"I am Thor Odinson, but I beg of you to call me only Thor."

"Hi," I said with a small smile. "I'm Stephanie Plum, but please call me Steph."

Thor seemed pleased to have his offer of familiar address returned as he explained, "when one from Midgard, or Earth, as you humans call it, is matched with an Asgardian such as myself, you do not receive words. Instead, the manner of identifying Asgardian soulmates takes precedence. I assure you, that is the sole explanation for the position in which we find ourselves."

"But aren't you a prince? I feel like I remember reading that somewhere?"

"You've heard of me! This is good, hopefully that will aid me in proving to you that I am a worthy mate! Let me tell you of the battle in which I struck down-"

"I'd love to hear that story later," I interrupted apologetically, "but I'm afraid there's some mistake. There's no chance I have Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, as my romantic soulmate. I'm a disaster! There's just no way!"

His voice softened a little as Thor replied, "let me assure you it is I who must prove myself worthy. For I have as a mate one who the universe has deemed worthy of the fierce Warriors Natasha, Eye of Hawk, Soldier of Winter, and our Captain as well as my lightning sister Darcy as your sisters and brothers of the soul!

"And Darcy tells me that you felled the Captain with lightning in a manner similar to how she did me upon our first meeting. Furthermore, Clinton tells us that you have already saved his life in battle and Natasha witnessed you apprehending a criminal by your lonesome despite a fierce surprise assault! You are a true warrior in your own right, and I can only hope that you will accept me as your mate!"

I stared at him, sure that my expression showed my shock for several minutes until I realized I was still plastered to his front. "If you're sure it is no mistake, I'd be crazy not to accept you, Thor," I said. "Though we can't spend the rest of our lives stuck like this. How do I get down?"

With a joyful shout, Thor spun with me in his arms before bending down and fastening his lips to mine. As we kissed I felt a warmth press deeply into my heart and my mind, bringing an odd sense of coming home. I was so lost in the kiss that I didn't register being back on the ground until Thor pulled back and I blinked three times.

I couldn't hold back my own smile to matched Thor's wide grin as I looked around and noticed that we were alone, the others having left us to our private celebration. Deciding that I might as well take advantage of fate's insanity for as long as it lasted, I laughed with Thor as I jumped and climbed up him as I tugged his lips back down to mine and lost myself in his kiss once more.


End file.
